Perched on the top of the guard's walk, the gypsy looked at the young man with grave eyes. 'You are the reincarnation of Jaycent, Sadi,' he said softly. 'Not simply in leadership, but in appearance.'
Sadi gave a nervous laugh. 'I am not Prince Jaycent,' he reminded. 'I am only his descendent.'
'All the same, you've become what you were born to be. Forgive me, but I thought that I could shelter you to the life of a gypsy. Now I see that I was wrong.'
Gold eyes looked sympathetically up at the mentor that had been his friend for many years. 'My heart longs for the life of a gypsy, Patch, and it always has. But my blood binds me to my people, just as it did with Jaycent. They need me, and I am the only one who can fulfill the prophecy. That is the only reason why I'm doing this.'
The gypsy of old nodded with a sigh. 'I know this. I'm not scolding you, Sadi. But I've seen history repeat itself.' With a look more stern than the Sarokian had ever seen in Patch's eyes, the older gypsy gave one final warning. 'Don't make me watch the city fall a second time.'
The golden eyed boy flashed a white smile. 'What has fallen will rise again. This is my purpose, and so with it I give you my promise.'